The Night's Dawn Trilogy (249 page)

She was following Joshua out of the transit capsule which had delivered them from the spaceport. The axial chamber was just
a low-gee bubble of rock, but at the same time it was a bubble of rock which she hadn’t seen before. Her first foreign world.

Joshua got into a waiting tube lift and sat down. She chose the seat opposite him, the composite creaking as it adjusted to
her weight.

“This is all so strange,” she said as the lift moved off. “Part of me wants to be next to you.”

His face became immobile. “Jesus, Ione, why the fuck did you shove your personality into the serjeants? Tranquillity’s would’ve
been just fine.”

“Why, Joshua Calvert, I do believe you’re embarrassed.”

“Who me? Oh, no, I’m quite used to sexless two metre monstrosities making a pass at me.”

“Don’t be so grumpy. It’s unbecoming. Besides, you should be grateful. My instinct is very protective towards you. That might
give me an edge.”

Joshua’s retort was lost somewhere in his throat.

The lift’s doors opened on a public hall in the asteroid’s commercial district where several late office workers scurried
to work while a pair of mechanoids cleaned the walls and floor. It was less spartan than the axial chamber, with a high, arched
roof and troughs of plants spaced at regular intervals. But it was still only a tunnel through rock, nothing exuberant. Unfortunately
the serjeant didn’t have lips that could easily be compressed into a pout, otherwise she would have done it. She really wanted
to see the biosphere cavern.

Joshua started off down the hall.

“What do you hope to accomplish here?” she asked.

“T’Opingtu is a big company; someone will have been appointed to run it straightaway. And Ikela would make sure his replacement
is someone he can trust, someone from his immediate circle. It’s not much, but it’s the best lead we’ve got.”

“I really don’t think you’ll be able to get an appointment today.”

“Don’t be such a downer, Ione. Your trouble is Tranquillity is incorruptible and logical, that’s all you’re used to. Asteroids
like Ayacucho are neither. The size of the contract I’m going to dangle in their faces will get me straight into the top office.
There’s an etiquette to this kind of business.”

“Very well, you get in. Then what?”

“I won’t know until I get there. Remember this is strictly a data acquisition mission, everything is helpful even if it is
only negative. So keep your senses open and your memory on full record.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Okay, now we’re primarily interested in anything we can learn about Ikela’s life. We know he was an Garissan refugee, so
who did he move with from the past, was he a strong nationalist? Names, contacts, that kind of stuff.”

“My personality didn’t suffer any damage during the replication process, I can think for myself.”

“Wonderful. A bodyguard with an attitude.”

“Joshua, darling, this isn’t attitude.”

He stopped and jabbed a finger at the husky construct. “Now look—”

“That’s Pauline Webb,” Ione said.

“What? Who?”

Three people were marching down the public hall towards Joshua. Two African-ethnic men flanking a white woman. He didn’t like
the look of the men at all; they were wearing civilian suits, but combat armour would have been more appropriate. Boosted,
and no doubt containing a wide variety of extremely lethal implants.

Pauline Webb stopped a couple of metres short of Joshua and gave the serjeant a curious glance. “Your appointment is cancelled,
Calvert. Collect your crew, get back in your starship, and go home. Today.”

Joshua produced his most nonchalant grin. “Pauline Webb. Fancy seeing you here.”

Her narrowed eyes gave the serjeant another suspicious glance. “This situation is not your concern anymore.”

“It is everybody’s concern,” Ione said. “Especially mine.”

“I didn’t know you things could operate independently.”

“Now you do,” Joshua said politely. “So if you’ll just step aside… ”

The man directly in front of Joshua folded his arms and planted his feet slightly apart, a true immovable object. He smiled
carnivorously down at Joshua.

“Er, perhaps we could come to an arrangement?”

“The arrangement is simple,” Webb said. “If you leave, you get to live.”

“Come on, Joshua,” Ione said. The serjeant’s all-too-human hand closed on his shoulder, forcing him to turn.

“But—”

“Come on.”

“That’s smart advice,” Webb said. “Listen to it.”

Ione let go of his shoulder after a few paces. A fuming Joshua allowed her to escort him back down the hall towards the lift.
When he glanced over his shoulder Webb and her two troopers were standing watching him.

“This isn’t her turf,” he hissed at the serjeant. “We could have caused a scene, made trouble for her. The police would have
sorted her out as well as us.”

“Any incident with the authorities here would have been resolved in her favour. She’s a CNIS officer assigned to Mzu; the
local Navy Bureau would have backed her, and you and I would be in deep shit, not to mention jail.”

“How the hell did Webb know where I was going?”

“I imagine
Lady Mac
’s crew is under clandestine surveillance right now.”

“Jesus!”

“Quite. We will have to withdraw and come up with a new strategy.”

They reached the lift doors, and Joshua datavised for a ride back to the axial chamber. He cast another glance over his shoulder
to check on Webb, a sly smile germinating on his face. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“The agencies don’t have her yet. We’re still in with a chance.”

“That’s logical.”

“Of course it’s logical. We may even be able to turn this to our advantage.”

“How?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re back in
Lady Mac
. Everyone’s going to have to undergo decontamination first. Christ knows what sort of covert nanonics they’ve stung us with.
We’ll be broadcasting our own thoughts back to them if we’re not careful.”

The lift doors opened and he stepped inside. Someone had slapped half a dozen twenty-centimetre circular holomorph stickers
at random over the walls, with a couple more on the ceiling. One was at head height; it started its cycle, a tight bud of
lavender photons swelling out from the centre into the form of a scantily clad teenage cheerleader. She shook her silver baton
enthusiastically. “Run, Alkad, run!” she yelled. “You’re our last hope; don’t let them catch you. Run, Alkad, run!”

Joshua stared at it in stupefaction. “Jesus wept.”

The cheerleader winked saucily, and syphoned back down below the sticker’s surface. Three more began their cycle.

Arnstadt fell to the Organization fleet after a ninety-minute battle above the planet. The Strategic Defence network was hammered
into oblivion by Capone’s antimatter-powered combat wasps. There had been some advance warning from the Edenists, giving the
local navy time to redeploy their ships. Three squadrons of voidhawks had arrived from the habitats orbiting one of the system’s
gas giants, reinforcing the Adamist vessels.

None of the preparations altered the final outcome. Forty-seven Arnstadt navy ships were destroyed, along with fifteen voidhawks.
The remaining voidhawks swallowed away, withdrawing back to the gas giant.

The Organization fleet’s transport starships moved unopposed into low orbit, and spaceplanes began to ferry a small army of
possessed down to the surface. Like all modern Confederation planets, Arnstadt had few soldiers. There were several marine
brigades, which were mainly trained in space warfare techniques and covert mission procedures. Wars in this era were fought
between starships. The days of foreign invasion forces marching across enemy territory had vanished before the end of the
twenty-first century.

With its SD network reduced to radioactive meteorites flaring through bruised skies, Arnstadt was incapable of offering the
slightest resistance to the possessed marching down out of their spaceplanes. Small towns were infiltrated first, increasing
the numbers of possessed available to move on to larger towns. The area of captured ground began to increase exponentially.

Luigi Balsmao set up his headquarters in one of the orbiting asteroid settlements. Information on the people captured by the
advancing possessed was datavised up to the asteroid where the structure coordination programs written by Emmet Mordden decided
if they should be possessed or not. Organization lieutenants were appointed, their authority backed up by the firepower of
fleet starships in low orbit.

With the subjugation of the planet confidently under way, Luigi split half of the fleet into squadrons and deployed them against
the system’s asteroid settlements. Only the Edenist habitats were left alone; after Yosemite, Capone wasn’t about to risk
a second defeat on such a scale.

Starships were dispatched back to New California, and fresh cargo ships began to arrive soon, bringing with them the basic
components for a new SD network along with other equipment to help consolidate the Organization’s advance. Rover reporters
were allowed to see carefully selected sections of the planet under its new masters: children left non-possessed to run around
freely, possessed and non-possessed working side by side to restart the economy, Luigi stamping down hard on any possessed
who didn’t acknowledge the Organization’s leadership.

News of the successful invasion swept across the Confederation, backed up by sensevise recordings from the reporters. Surprise
was total. One star system’s government—no matter what its nature—taking over another was a concept always considered totally
impossible. Capone had proved it wasn’t. In doing so he set off a chain reaction of panic. Commentators began to talk about
planetary level exponential curves, the most extreme showing the entire Confederation falling to the Organization within six
months as the industrial resources of more and more systems were absorbed by Capone’s empire.

On the Assembly floor, demands that the Confederation Navy should intervene and destroy the Organization fleet became almost
continuous. First Admiral Aleksandrovich had to make several appearances to explain how impractical the notion was. The best
the navy could do, he said, was to seek out the source of Capone’s antimatter and prevent a third system from being taken
over. Arnstadt was already lost. Capone had secured a victory which couldn’t be reversed without a great loss of life. At
this stage, such casualties were wholly unacceptable. He also pointed out that, sadly, a great many non-possessed crews were
cooperating with the Organization to operate their starships. Without them, the invasion of Arnstadt could never have happened.
Perhaps, he suggested, the Assembly should consider introducing an emergency act to deal with any such traitors. Such legislation
might, in future, discourage captains seeking to sign up with Capone for short term gain.

•  •  •

“Escort duties?” AndrÉ Duchamp asked wearily. “I thought we were here to help defend New California itself. What exactly does
this escort duty entail?”

“Monterey hasn’t given me a detailed briefing,” Iain Girardi said. “But you will simply be protecting cargo ships from attack
by the Confederation Navy. Which is exactly what your contract stipulated.”

“Hardly,” Madeleine growled. “Nor does it say anywhere that we help a deranged dictator who wiped out an entire fucking planet.
I say jump out, Captain. Power up the patterning nodes right now and get the fuck out of here while we still can.”

“I would have thought this was a more appealing task for you,” Iain Girardi said. His acceleration couch webbing peeled back,
and he drifted off the cushioning. “The majority of the crews in the cargo ships are non-possessed, and you won’t be permanently
in range of the Organization’s SD platforms. If anything, we’re giving you an easier job with less risk for the same money.”

“Where would we be going?” AndrÉ asked.

“Arnstadt. The Organization is shipping industrial equipment there to help restart the planetary economy.”

“If they hadn’t blown it all to shit in the first place they wouldn’t need to
restart
it,” Madeleine said.

AndrÉ shushed her impatiently. “It seems fine to me,” he told Iain Girardi. “However, the ship will require some maintenance
work before we can undertake such an assignment. An escort flight is very different from supplementing planetary defences.”

Iain Girardi’s humour appeared strained for the first time. “Yes. I’ll have to discuss the nature of the repairs with Monterey.”
He datavised the flight computer for a communications channel.

AndrÉ waited with a neutral smile.

“The Organization will bring the
Villeneuve’s Revenge
up to full combat-capable status,” Iain Girardi announced. “Your hull and sensor suite will be repaired by us, but you must
meet the cost of secondary systems.”

AndrÉ shrugged. “Take it out of our fee.”

“Very well. Please dock at Monterey’s spaceport, bay VB757. I shall disembark there; you’ll be assigned a liaison officer
for the mission.”

“Non-possessed,” Desmond Lafoe said sharply.

“Of course. I believe they want you to take some reporters with you, as well. They’ll require access to your sensors during
the flight.”

“Merde
. Those filth. What for?”

“Mr Capone is highly focused on the need for accurate publicity. He wants the Confederation to see that he is not a real threat.”

“Unlike Arnstadt,” Madeleine said swiftly.

AndrÉ piloted the starship down from its emergence zone to the large asteroid. Spaceflight traffic above New California was
heavy: starships raced between the orbital asteroids and the emergence zones, spaceplanes and ion field flyers flew a constant
shuttle service from the planet. Although the starship only had sixty-five per cent of its sensor clusters remaining, AndrÉ
kept them fully extended to gather what information he could.

When the flight computer told her Girardi was talking to Monterey again, Madeleine opened an encrypted channel to AndrÉ: “I
don’t think we should dock,” she datavised.